Tea and coffee
by Airannath
Summary: To him, she is the most lovely when she wakes him up in the morning, nicely at first then kicking him in the leg when he refuses. To her, he is the most charming when he enters the bathroom while she showers and gives her a mug of coffee. He calls it multitasking. Those little things look like promises, like forever, like happiness. Doesn't everyone deserve that?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters nor the show. They belong to Bruno Heller.**

_**A.N.:**_ This is kind of a story with Lisbon and Jane togheter. The chapters aren't always related to each other, so I'm not exactly sure what it is.**  
**

I will post here whenever I feel the need to write Jisbon as a couple.

Soulmates

It was a strange thing to wake up next to Patrick Jane. Naked. With him being in the same state as she was. Moreover, he was asleep (For some reason, it surprised her that she was the first to open her eyes).

She had vivid memories of more than pleasant events from the night before. (If she was honest to herself, it had been _amazing._) Better than she had ever expected. Seeing that she couldn't go back to sleep, she fixed her eyes on the white ceiling and let her thoughts fly in her head.

She was more emotional than she had been the evening before, when he confessed his feelings for her (with a little help from her, but even so, he did it),. It was almost like a one of the dreams she sometimes had. The night had been like a dream. Only now, in the morning, it was more clear to her that everything was real. She felt some sort of light growing up from her stomach and invading her body, until it got to the mouth. She couldn't hold the smile.

_Jane was in love with her._

She had told herself, for so many years, that all she felt was the body reacting to an attractive body, charming smile and innocent jokes. Nothing more. It would go away with sex, if this ever happened. (It usually did). At first, she didn't want to break the rules, because he wasn't worthy enough. Later, she had grown to cherish him and didn't want to lose their friendship. Jane had a lot of negative traits, but he was a good friend. He was there for her, in ways that nobody else had ever been or would ever be, probably. In exchange, she was loyal to him. She was still surprised of some of the things she had done for him; she had regretted few, though, and only for a short amount of time. He was charming and she was forgiving enough.

Somewhere during the decade of knowing of each other, she had come to the conclusion that it was more than that. It was. She had never been able to say what exacly it was, because what they had covered many kinds of a relationship, in the strangest way. They were lovers (though they had never made love, nor even kissed), husband and wife (even if he was already faithfully married to a dead woman), bestfriends (in spite of the fact she knew too little about him or his past) and strangers (despite knowing each other for years). She had chosen the term 'friends'. It wasn't enough, but it was safe. Jane had seemed to agree with it.

She had buried everything deep down her soul, trying to think as little as possible of anything more for them.(Some days it worked, some days not.)

She had been fine with what they had. She was married to her job, too. Besides, it would never work, right?

Now, here she was. How long had she waited? She knew that they knew each other for only twelve years, but it felt longer. Maybe she had waited her whole life for him, uncounsciously.

She changed her position, lying on her side. The covers fell a little, exposing half of her body and she became aware of the chill air in the room. She came closer to the blond man, in order to warm up and have a better view at Jane. Her eyes took in every detail of his face, storing it in her small "mind palace". She wasn't sure she would ever see him that way ever again. She had never seen him so calm, so content with everything. Her heart vanished from her chest when she thought that she was the one that made him be that way.

His eyes opened slowly in front of her, blinking a few times before finding hers. They were so blue, big and happy. His whole face relaxed in a big smile, as if saying 'Good morning'. She heard nothing from his lips, yet. Maybe he was content with watching her. She didn't mind; she was okay with it, as well.

Some people fall in love with the way their lover falls asleep.

She fell in love with the way Patrick woke up.

She had never allowed herself this before. She had thought only of the reasons she would come to wake up, so that his ruffled hair, or small smile, or that light of his eyes wouldn't make her forget them. Now...she was allowed. She could fell in love with every part of his he wanted. He wouldn't break her heart...would he?

He wouldn't go away, right? He had told her what exactly she meant to him. He seemed serious. He gave her the love she had been craving for...

Then why could she picture him doing that? She felt her heart coming back to its rightful place, in a painful way. For God knows which time, she wished she couldn't feel it.

She could lie to herself all she wanted, but the truth was the same: he had done it before. He had taken her heart and shot it, then had left it on the side of the road. He had played with it, as if it were another toy of his. He could do it again if he wanted to. Nothing stopped him, just common sense. Sometimes, though, he lacked it.

She had picked it everytime and somehow managed to fix it. This time, though...She wasn't sure she would be able to do it. She would lose all the trust in him and, unfortunately, herself.

"What happened?"

She startled, taken aback by his hoarse voice and the intensity from his eyes. He smirked, a little amused. Then a frown fell upon his face which made her feel worse.

" Nothing. What happened?"

"You have tears in your eyes."

She blinked a few times and realized that, indeed, she was close to crying.

"It's nothing." she said, waving her hand, to reassure him. " How was the sleep?" she asked him, in order to change the subject.

"Please, tell me."

Patrick rarely pleaded, from what she could remember.

" You won't leave, will you?"

She could barely hear her voice, but from the sad look on the man's face, Jane heard her well. She tried to decipher the emotions from his eyes. Almost impossible. Maybe they were too many.

"I'm sorry. For...everything." he said, his voice tone matching hers. " I won't leave you...as long as I can control it. I promise it."

She felt his hands on her back, gently pushing her againist him, in a warm embrace. He hid his face in her hair, murmuring something close to "I'm staying. I will stay. Believe me, please. Okay?"

She nodded, slowly, answering to the embrace. Her face found its place in his neck. She closed her eyes and smiled.

What were they now?

She wanted to say lovers, but, again, it wasn't enough.

She will find the term at some point, probably, because she was not leaving and neither was he. As a childhood friend of hers used to say, they had an infinity in front of them to discover it and much more.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I know this is _really_ short, but I just wanted it to be this way. I found it a little cute, I hope it is. (Tomorrow I have the Cambridge exam. I hope I'll do well. )

* * *

People who don't know Teresa assume that she's always serious. They've never seen her childish part, which only appears when he's serious or half-asleep.. Sometimes it's cute, other times it's annoying.

Still, life and people have tried to kill it so many times, that now she is ashamed of it. He should consider himself lucky that he can witness such pure joy.

She likes skipping. She is usually careful that he doesn't see her and he pretends so. The truth is that she is bewitching. She skips and spins. She blushes because, as she would say, she's forty. Apparently, she shouldn't be doing that. He doesn't care. She could be as old as the universe and he would still find her fascinating. He doesn't know why he finds out about this only now, after twelve years of knowing each other. Words said long ago come back to him, hitting him in the head : "You only think you know everything about me." She was right and he is delighted to find out that there still are little things he doesn't know about her. She probably is, too.

She loves cuddling and hitting in sleep. She manages to wake him up. Still, he doesn't mind.

She smiles brightly when she sees an episode of one of her favourite show. She wouldn't move at all, nor acknowledge something else (besides him. She sometimes tells him to shut up)

He only wishes this child appeared more often.


End file.
